Every Night I Save You...
by NP Jones
Summary: In the episode, 'After Life' we learned that every night, Spike saved Buffy. 'Not when it counted, of course.' Ever wonder how? Take a look. Read and Review.
1. Author's Note/ Key Quotes

Author's Note: This is a series of short stories that are tied into the 147 days that Buffy Summers was dead between 'The Gift' and 'Bargaining'. I've always been curious to see how Spike would have saved Buffy, if given the chance. Plus, I've also wanted to see the Scoobies attempt to carry on without their leader and closest friend. I'm (obviously) skipping around a bit, so as to do little bits and pieces of the Scooby Conspiracy to bring Buffy back to life. Spike of course did not know what they were planning, but, knowing the character of Spike, I know he would notice all the secret meetings and be suspicious. Plus, as a tidbit, I think it's a nifty little twist, what happens in Day Thirty and Day Thirty-One. Curious? Take a look...  
  
"I'm counting on you ...to protect her."  
  
"Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight."  
  
Buffy and Spike-'The Gift'  
  
"I made a promise to a lady"  
  
Spike, to Doc-'The Gift'  
  
"How long was I gone?"  
  
"Hundred forty-seven days yesterday...um, one-forty-eight today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?"  
  
Buffy and Spike-'After Life'  
  
"I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course. But after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again, do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways...every night I save you."  
  
Spike, to Buffy-'After Life' 


	2. Day One

Day One  
  
It's playing out all over again. I'm stuck behind the Scooby's impromptu barricade, rather pissed that one of those nut job wankers of Glory's hit me in the bleedin' face with a brick, when I look up. I see Dawn, my Little Bit, all trussed up like Joan of friggin' Arc. Even at this distance, I can see she's terrified. Hell, I don't blame her. I'd be a little worried too, if some skank Hell God wanted to slice me up into Spike kabobs, which of course, she actually did try to do. Then, I see something else moving up there. I can't quite make it out, but there's something up there with Nibblet. I try to point it out to the others, but they can't see a damn thing. Damn humans with their poor eyesight. 'Course, Red sees something too, guess she's got a better vantage point, being that she's collapsed near a corner of the tower, huddled up with Glinda. Despite myself, I can't help but hope that Red's little stunt helped reverse the damage Glory did to Tara. I rather like the bird. She doesn't say much, unlike the rest of the Scooby's, who I swear talk simply for the pleasure of hearing their own voices. So, anyway, I'm sitting here, minding my own business, when WHAM! Red starts speaking to me inside my head! Where'd she learn that trick, the Whelp's comic books? So she tells me to get my ass in gear, and go save Nibblet. Which of course I have no problem with, but how do I get past the humans, who conveniently I can't hit due to the government hardware that neuters your beloved hero. Apparently, Red don't like it when I ask questions, 'cause next thing I know, she's screaming inside my skull so loud, I've no choice but to get a move on. I go running towards the staircase, and just when I reach it, Red and Glinda work some mojo. Everyone goes scattering like bowling pins, clearing a path for me to get through.  
  
I bound up the stairs as quick as I can, which is real damn fast. I only take my eyes off my goal for a second to steal a peek at Buffy, who's putting a beat down to Glory of which the likes I've never seen. She's really got her on the ropes. Glory's not even fighting back anymore. Good for you, Slayer! I knew when push came to shove, the bitch had nothing on you! But, I continue on, my mission clear. Protect her. Till the end of the world.  
  
I make it to the top of the scaffold, bounding onto the platform where Dawn is tied up. And who should I see but Doc, holding a knife to Bit! Damn thing just doesn't know when to die, does he? "Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill him?" I ask, truly quite annoyed that I have to deal with this thing again.  
  
"Look who's talking", he replies.  
  
"Come on, Doc", I say, "Let's you and me have a go." Then the ponce actually has the gall to say he's got another appointment! So, I tell him it won't take but a minute, and he agrees, a little too quick for my taste. Wanker's got somethin' up his sleeve. In this case, literally. As I rush him, he sidesteps me and puts his knife in my back. Ooh, now he's got me pissed. Don't really care so much for the stab wound, it'll heal, but the bastard put another hole in my coat! Poor thing's taken way too much abuse over the years. So from here we struggle a bit, neither of us really getting any sort of advantage. The guy may look old and feeble, but he's strong as all else, and he's quick as me. I got myself in between Dawn and Doc, like that Roman soldier, can't recall his name, at the bridge. I can hold him off from this position. I don't even have to win this fight to beat him, just outlast his sacred little schedule. Then, he'll have about as much use for Dawn as I do suntan lotion.  
  
I tell the pillock, "You don't come near the girl, Doc".  
  
"I don't smell a soul anywhere on you", he says back to me, that stupid grin still on his face. "Why do you even care?" Why do I care? Why? Simple, you git.  
  
"I made a promise to a lady." At that, he just says oh and shoots his tongue out at me. Ah ah, I've got you scouted here! I grab that tongue with as firm a grip as I can muster and yank him forward. Huh? That's not what happened. I tried to dodge and he swept my legs out from under me. Oh well, I'm likin' this a lot better. So I let go of his tongue and grab him up over my head like a pro wrestler. He's squirming, confused. I like that a lot too. I carry him over to the ledge. Just before I throw him off, I say a few more words to him, just to get my point from earlier across. "Like I said, you twit, I made a promise to a lady. An' when it comes to that lady, I always keep my promises!" Then I launch that son of a bitch damn near into orbit. I particularly enjoy his little scream, then that oh so pleasant splat sound he makes when he hits pavement. Not so tough after all, are you?  
  
I turn to Dawn, looking her over, making sure he didn't hurt her. She's shaken and cryin' her big brown eyes out, but unhurt. I breathe a sigh of relief and step over to her, freeing her from her bonds. Once she's untied, she throws herself into my arms, holding on for dear life. She looks into my eyes, tears streamin' down her cheeks.  
  
"Thank you, Spike! I knew you'd save me!" Damn, she had more faith in me than I had in myself. I lean forward, putting my forehead to hers.  
  
"Told your sis that I'd protect you till the end of the world, an' I meant it. Now let's get you down from here." I help her down the stairs, moving as quick as we can. We get to the halfway point and run into Buffy. She had no clue I'd made it up there, from the look on her face. To say she was overjoyed would be an understatement. She starts bawling right there, which of course sets Nibblet off. She reaches out for Buffy and they embrace in a hug. I turn away, to let them have their happy reunion when I see Giles kneeling before Ben. So, Buffy couldn't go through with it, taking a human life. I never thought she would anyway. She's too good for that. Business like that is best left to me.and apparently Giles, who's currently suffocating the boy. Can't say I'm too broken up about it. Bastard led Glory right to us, and from what I can figure, he knew all about Buffy's little secret from the get go. Least the wanker could've done was tell us about him and Glory's timeshare plan. Would've saved us a lot of grief. Even so, I place my body in direct line of sight with Giles' secret party. Wouldn't want the Slayer and kid sis to see Ripper at his worst.  
  
Buffy's looking at me now. She's got Dawn wrapped under her right arm, and she reaching out with her left, putting her hand gently on my face. She smiling at me. At me!  
  
"Spike, you remember what I said to you, in your crypt after we got you out of Glory's condo?" I nod dumbly, too astonished by the fact that she's touching me so lovingly. "I said what you did then, for me and Dawn, was real. This", she nods her head back up to the scaffold, "was more than real. It was brave. And noble. Possibly the noblest thing anyone has ever done for me. I'll never forget. Never."  
  
"What can I say, luv", I reply stupidly, "I love you." She looks down for a moment, like she's still trying to process that bit of info.  
  
"I get that now", she says, lookin' back into my eyes. "I get that this isn't some sick game, or a twisted obsession brought on by the fact that you can't kill me. I really understand now that you really love me."  
  
Then she kisses me. It's more than the soft peck she gave me in my crypt that day, and it's gentler than the snogs we engaged in when we were under Red's 'Do My Will' spell. It's a full blown, Adam Sandler-Drew Barrymore- Wedding Singer kiss. It's perfect.  
  
After a too short time, she breaks the kiss, pulling back from me slightly. "I don't love you, Spike. I don't know if I ever will, or even if I could. But one thing I do know is that from this point on, you are one of us. Family." She moves away from me now, taking Dawn down the stairs back to the ground and into the arms of the waiting Scooby's. Everyone's okay, if a little roughed up and worse for wear. They all join in a great big mushy group hug that makes me think of heaving, crying and laughing and all that other rot the white hats do when they win. They start swaying a bit, and I'm expecting them to bust out with a no doubt off key rendition of 'We Are The Champions' when they break up the formation and begin to leave, talking animatedly about everything that just happened. I take my cue from them and go to leave too, when I realize, due to the smoking corpse that is my body, that it's morning. Bugger all, the sun's out, and me without my blanket. I go to sit in the shade to wait for my chance to make a break for it, when the whelp, Red and Buffy come back. Whelp has something in his hands.  
  
"Here ya go, Captain Perox- uh, Spike." He hands me a heavy duty blanket. "I had it stashed in my car, just in case." I take the blanket slowly, unsure if this is some sort of joke. It isn't.  
  
"Thanks, Whelp. No, sorry. Xander. Thank you, Xander. It's much appreciated." Hey, I've got to be civil now. Families don't argue and call each other names in public. Besides, if he's willing to stop with the insults, I can too.  
  
"You did real good, Spike. Way to go!" pipes up Red. "I am so proud of you. You saved Dawnie and stopped the world from ending! We owe you our lives."  
  
"Nah, it's nothing. I just kept my word, s'all." Listen to me, being all modest. I love to brag, it's what I do.  
  
"Whatever you say, you big hero you!" Red then kisses me on the cheek before she and Xander head back to their autos. Buffy's still standin' here, though. I guess she's waiting for me. Well, best to oblige her before she starts hitting me again.  
  
We walk around to the waiting vehicles the long way, sticking to the tower so I'm still under shade and we won't have to make with the forty yard dash. Apparently she's got something else to say.  
  
"Spike, there's something else I need to say. You said I treat you like a man, and that that's-well, whatever you were going to say, it doesn't matter. 'Cause from here on in, no matter what, you are a man. A good man. And no one can ever take that away from you."  
  
I am struck dumb once more. This girl, whose death I plotted, whose incessant meddling had ruined all of my most wicked plots, whom I love with all my unbeating heart, just gave me the greatest gift I could ever receive. "Luv", I tell her, "you have just now officially killed the Big Bad."  
  
"Death is my Gift." And on that rather cryptic comment, we do the forty in four flat, leaping into my beloved DeSoto Sportsman and head home, together.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My eyes spring open. I'm lying on the sarcophagus in my crypt. For a moment I'm bewildered, wondering how I got here. Then it all comes back to me. Buffy is dead. I failed her, and she paid the price for that failure. It had all been a dream. I look at the clock on my table, though I don't really need to. It's 5:47 PM. Sunset. Tonight we bury her. We're burying her in the forest, away from prying eyes in a little grove of trees. Watcher said that we can't let the demon community, or the humans for that matter, know that the Slayer has fallen. Apparently, the Call's a one time deal, so since Faith is in prison, there will be no Slayer. Red's gonna fix the bot, reprogram the twice damned thing to make everyone believe that Buffy's still around. That way, the Hellmouth won't get overrun with nasties, and Nibblet won't get sent to live with her absentee dad. Guess in the end, I did a good thing, having that Nancy Boy Warren build it. Won't ever look at the thing again though.  
  
Tears pour down my face as I leave for the rendezvous. They're burying her at night, partly to avoid suspicious nosy folk, and partly for my benefit. Right kind of the lot. Still, have to put on the Big Bad face. Can't have the Scooby's seeing me cry like a school girl. Probably break their spirits, seeing as how I'm the strongest person they got.  
  
The Slayer's dead. I can't change that. What I can do though, is do her work for her. Carry on in her name. It's only fitting, I suppose. And Dawn will never, never be in danger again. I swear this to you, Buffy. I will keep my promise.  
  
I'm almost to the site. In the distance, I can see Nibblet and the Scooby's, standing around a casket. Her casket. And the one thing I can't get out of my mind is this:  
  
Will I save you tomorrow, Buffy? 


	3. Day Two

Day Two  
  
Tonight was our first patrol without Buffy. Somebody upstairs must be looking out for this lot, 'cause like I said during that Thanksgiving a back in '99, 'This is the crack team that foiled my every plan?'. There was hardly a mugger to be seen, much less a real nasty. Red still hasn't finished working on the bot. Apparently putting the thing's head back on is a lot harder than it looks. So, I patrolled with Watcher and the Whelp. Maybe I should have stayed with Nibblet, but Glinda swore to me that she'd be safe with her an' Red. She's probably right, given that they are major league witches an' all, but I still worry. They are still human after all. They tend to scare easy. Case in point-the Whelp jumped damn near four feet in the air at every shadow, every sudden gust of wind, and every time I came back from scouting ahead. The git's expecting to see me, and he still comes close to losing bladder control when I appear out of the shadows. He tells me to 'cut that out!', but I can't help it that, being a vampire, I'm a natural predator. This is when Watcher pops up with-  
  
"Supernatural, Spike. Vampires are-are s-supernatural predators. N-n- nature has nothing to-to do with.."  
  
"Whatever, let's jus' get this over with. I need to get to sleep." Oh yeah, sleep. I'm still hoping that I'll have that dream again. Where I save the day.  
  
Finally, I get back to my crypt. Clement, one of my kitten poker buddies that I DO NOT let the Scooby's find out about, has dropped off the stuff I asked him to pick up. More furniture, lamps, a writing desk, new bed and a wardrobe. The guy even moved it all into the lower level, exactly where I wanted everything. Decent bloke, for a demon with about six feet too much skin on his frame. But, hey, it's good for hiding cards. Me an' him love fleecing Ol' Teeth and his flunkies. It's almost too easy, an' since Clem's in for the felines, I get a good payoff at the end of the night. Well, good enough to keep me in blood, bourbon and smokes. The big stuff comes from the quid I hustle off of the fraternity lugs at the Bronze playing pool, and nicking off the deadbeats at the lowlife bars. It's a decent living, for a guy who doesn't need to pay for amenities, like cable (spliced off the main line), water (tapped the city's main line), electricity (see water), or air conditioning (Undead, don't really need it). Would be nice to have a real WC though, with a shower. Maybe I can get the Whelp to do a little pro bono. Riiiiight.  
  
I arrange everything how I want it, and settle into bed, dead tired, pardon the pun. I toss and turn for a bit, then drift off.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hmmm, this is different from last night. I'm at Doc's place, with the Whelp. Interesting place to jump in at, what with the retrieved box and the sword in the chest.  
  
"What do we got?" He's referring to the box. I know what's in here.  
  
"Something worth dying for", I reply, looking down at the sod. This is where we leave, but I won't let it happen like this again. I walk back over to Doc's so-called corpse and whisper, "I know you're still alive." Suddenly, his eyes pop open. They go all swirly black, like Red's do when she workin' major mojo. Then he just rises up, no bending knees or rolling over to get to his feet, he's just-up.  
  
He smiles THAT STUPID GRIN as he says, "Sometimes a person just won't stay dead, huh?! Really makes you cranky sometimes." At that comment, he pulls the sword from his chest and its fightin' time again. I throw the box to Xander as I stumble back towards the fireplace, trying to find some sort of weapon to use against Doc. Xander stands there like the Special Ed case I always knew he was.  
  
"Get out of here!! They need that box more 'n me!" He doesn't need another clue. He bolts. Finally, fun time. I just wrapped my hand around a weapon I have had some lovely experience with. A fire poker. I can feel that old school gleam in my eyes as I regress in my mind to the day I beat the bloody hell out of Angelus with one of these. Wanker never saw it comin'. Neither will Doc.  
  
He lunges at me, sword over his head as he goes for a downward slice, hoping to cleave me in two. I dodge quite easily and begin to bash his skull in. Maybe that stab wound hurt him more than I thought, 'cause he ain't matchin' me. Doesn't take long before he's on the floor, a quivering mess of flesh, guts and gristle. Exhausted, I drop the poker. I slide against the wall, gathering myself. Then I decide to make sure the pillock can't come back. I separate what's left of his head from his body, throw it into the fire, then I carve out his heart and do the same. Once the heart hits fire, the meat sack begins to quiver and spasm, then relaxes and disintegrates. Scratch one flunky.  
  
I make it back to the Magic Box to discover that the Slayer's back in the world of the non-catatonic. Watcher has read the book in the box through and through. There's only one conclusion he can come up with: If the portal opens, Dawn has to get iced to close it. Slayer doesn't like that option.  
  
Things pretty well go according to rote here. We argue, and plan, and argue some more. I get in a real good jab at the Whelp, callin' him a glorified bricklayer and he can't match. Swell bowler? Look at me quiver in my boots. Buffy breaks it up, tellin' me to shut my gob and follow her. Then it's back to her place, where she lets me back in and I make my promise. Till the end of the world. Even if that happens to be tonight. She goes to change, so the bot can where her clothes, the clothes Glory's seen her in already. I already know that the Dimwitted Bitch God won't have a clue. I stop her. "I know you'll never love me", I say, catching her attention. "I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man. And that's.." I can't finish, but she knows, even if it's not the same words. "Get your stuff, I'll be here."  
  
The attack goes on like it should, 'cept there's no Doc to menace Dawn. Red an' Glinda clear us a hole in the loony brigade and we all charge once more. Apparently the crazies have no real will to fight when Glory's as beat up as she is now. I let the others go up to untie Dawn. Giles goes to follow me, but I stop him. "Go get Dawn", I tell him, with just a hint of menace in my voice. He starts to say something, but stops. We look into each others' eyes. He sees what I plan to do, 'cause it's exactly what he plans. Ripper surges to the front for a moment, then Giles comes back. I tell him, "It should be me. She doesn't need to see you do it. She admires you too much to ever need to think of you as a killer." You're a killer. That's what crazy Glinda said to Giles before we left. Guess maybe her looniness made her a little clairvoyant, like Dru. Figures.  
  
He gets my drift, though. Heads up to free Dawn like a good little Scooby. I head over to Buffy and Glory. Oh, this is simply delicious. Slayer's got the Hell Bitch on the ropes, I knew that, but seein' it from a distance and seein' it up close an' personal like are two completely different things. For one thing, Glory's a bloody mess. Literally. Blood's pouring out of every hole in her face, not to mention a few new ones too, courtesy of Buffy Anne Summers and Olaf the Troll's God Hammer. Buffy's not even bleedin' from the few superficial cuts she does have, and like she just said, her arms not even tired. Few more blows that would've pulped even the toughest vamp, an' Glory's floored. Buffy keeps it up though, goin' to town on the skank's face like she was hammering in a fence pole. Suddenly, she stops her attack, and I see why. Glory's out of juice. Ben's back, and he bears all the same wounds as Glory did. Interesting. They are tied together on a physical level. What hurts him, a human, hurts Glory, a God, and vice versa. A plan takes shape in my mind. The two exchange a few word, and now Buffy's scramblin' up the stairs for her rendezvous with kid sis. The boy just lies there, bleeding. It's about all he can do.  
  
"I guess we're stuck with each other, huh baby?" he basically says to himself. I sweep in from the shadows, hovering over him like a vulture until I kneel down to his left. I appraise his condition. It's bad, but he'll live. Can't have that.  
  
"Painful, isn't it?" I say, remembering that that was exactly what I said to Angel after beating him down with that trusty fire poker.  
  
"Need a..a minute. She could've killed me", he says.  
  
"Bollocks. Slayer's a genuine real deal bona fide superhero. She doesn't kill people, just the nasties out there. She's better than us."  
  
"Us?"  
  
"Yeah. See, I'm a vampire. Evil and all that. I do what I do now because I love her, but the truth is that no matter how much she treats me like the man I want to be for her, in the end, I am a monster. Like you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Oh yeah, mate. I've got you sussed out. Glory's a part of you, and you, Glory. The way I figure, having a Hell God woven into your very essence, soul AND body, that makes you not quite..human." My game face slips on as I dive in for the kill. Huh. What do you know? I was right. Doesn't hurt a bit. As I drain the wanker of his very life, I can feel Glory tryin' to come back through, to try and stop me from killin' them both. Too late, bitch. Ben shudders a bit, almost morphs into Glory, and dies. I did it for her. I hope she realizes that. It's not like I can hide the fact that his body's drained of blood. She'll know it was me. But maybe, just maybe, she'll see this as my gift to her, to make up for all the horrible things I've done to her. Maybe.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My alarm goes off. 2:35 PM. I roll out of bed as this latest dream begins to fade from my memory. I shake off the last vestiges of sleep and go bird bath in my homemade sink. I head for the sewer entrance, remembering what Watcher told me before I left for the night. That Red an' Glinda were going on some sort of shopping expedition to find the parts needed for the bot, that Whelp had a double shift at his construction site, and that Anya and he were going to be busy with cataloguing all of his precious library, so someone needed to stay with Dawn. If you read between the lines, like I do so well, you get that none of them want to be around Nibblet right now. 'Cause they all know that if they had half a chance, they'd have killed her, Buffy's wrath be damned. Dawn's not real, they probably rationalized in their heads. It's not fair that this fake person gets to walk around breathing while Buffy's six feet under. Buffy, who was their real family, unlike Dawn, whose presence in their memories was implanted by some meddling monks. It's not how they really feel, though. It's just that with Buffy so soon gone, they can't accept what happened and move on. Not like I'm doing such a good job of it, but I have one advantage that they don't: I made a promise to a lady.  
  
Till the end of the world. 


	4. Day Thirty and Day Thirty-One

Day 30  
  
Thirty days. She's been gone thirty days. It's a strange thing, really, that I've noticed the passage of time so clearly. I'm a vampire. We live forever. Forever. Thirty days for us is such a small amount of time that really, we don't even bother to notice. What's thirty days when you've got eternity? Of course, for me, it's an eternity where every moment, I'll see her face in my mind and be reminded of my failure. Thirty days where I have to remember that an old man, well, demon, beat me so easily. No one has ever gotten the drop on Ol' Spike that easily, not even the Slayer. Yet, when the chips are down, and everyone is dependin' on me to be the hero, I fold. Stupid, pathetic excuse for a vampire, can't even do the one thing she needed me to. I couldn't protect Dawn, so Buffy had to die to fix my mistake. It isn't fair, not to Buffy, and not to Bite Size. Why should Dawn have to suffer? Why wasn't it me?  
  
She told me, in her house that night, that we weren't all gonna make it. I figured she was talkin' about me. I was the expendable one, after all. Watcher's the brains, Red and Glinda, the power, and the Whelp and his ex- demon squeeze were the heart. I was just a nifty added bonus, like the toy in a Cracker Jack box. Altogether unnecessary, but kinda cool to have. So, it stands to reason, in my mind, that I would be the first person she'd be willin' to sacrifice to save her sis. Hell, like I said, she charged me to protect her. With my very life, if need be. Wasn't said, but I knew. None of us had the strength to stand nose to nose with Hell Skank 'cept for me and her. 'Course, in the end, it was Buffy whippin' Glory's lopsided ass, and me fallin' fifteen stories from the top of the scaffold, courtesy of Doc. Because of that, Buffy had to jump. Should've been me.  
  
Since that night, I've patrolled with the Scooby's, keepin' the beasties and other nasties under control while Red continues to rebuild the bot. She's got it put back together, but there are programmin' issues. Damn piece of plastic still has all that 'special' programmin' in its head. Every time it gets turned on, it starts with the 'Oh, Spike!' and I just want to smash it to bits. It has no right to look like her or sound like her! Most of all, it has no right taking Buffy's place. But Red and the Watcher are adamant. No one must know the Slayer is dead.  
  
Nibblet's taking this all the worst. Not only can she not publicly grieve for her big sis, now she has to share a house with a thing programmed to act like her. Can't say I'd want to be the one picking up the tab on her therapy bills. Still, the girl's just like her sister. She puts on the stiff upper lip, throws her shoulders back, and fights her way through each and every day. Thirty days. I know she's counting too.  
  
Tonight, I got the night off from patrolling. Red wants to take the bot on a test run, so I get to stay with Dawn. Which is what I should have been doing since day one. I was the one charged to protect her, not them. I won't fail again. So, I let her stay up way past her supposed bed time that the Scooby's have imposed on her and we have ourselves some fun. We watch R rated movies, I teach her how to pick locks, we play cards, I teach her how to cheat at cards, and we tell each other stories. Not like I used to, when she would sneak out of her room to hang out with Big Bad, but new stories. We try to figure out how some of the things that have gone down in this town involving me, Buffy and the Scooby's without Dawn there. Those monks did a good job planting her in all of our minds. Like when me and Buffy first teamed up against Angelus. The only thing that stopped her from stakin' me good and proper was the fact that I rescued Dawn, pulled her out of the mansion where they were holdin' her for bait. Least, that's how we remember it. It didn't really happen that way, but that's all we know. I don't really like to talk about this stuff, I don't like her thinkin' that she's not real, but I'll play along. Anything to help her move on. Anything to help me move on too.  
  
I take a break from story time to get a smoke in on the back porch. The moon and stars are particularly bright tonight. I can see clearly for miles in all directions. I take in a deep drag, slowly blowing the smoke out through my nostrils, letting the tobacco sooth me. I go to pull out my flask, to take a nip of bourbon, when Dawn joins me on the stoop. She snuggles up close, shivering a bit, though it's not all that cold out here. So I take off my beloved duster, won in combat from one of Buffy's predecessors, and wrap Dawn up in it. Only fitting, I suppose, that the coat of a fallen Slayer should give comfort to the sister of another.  
  
"Spike?", she says, lookin' up at me with those big blue Bambi eyes of hers.  
  
"Yeah?", I respond.  
  
"Why do you smoke?"  
  
"Dunno, Bit. I didn't when I was human. Guess it was just somethin' I picked up along the way from Angel."  
  
"Angel?" She just crinkled up her nose at the sound of his name. I just love that, she hates as bad as I do.  
  
"Yeah, the prancing poofter himself. When we used to run together, I'd try so hard to be what he wanted me to be. 'Course, I didn't make it too easy on him, what with his always goin' for easy kills and what not. Anyway, he used to chomp on these huge friggin' cigars. Cubans, if I remember right. Even when I hated him the most for the beatings he'd put on me, I still thought he looked so cool smokin' the cigar. So it was a matter of time 'fore I was smokin' 'em too. 'Course, when I finally realized what a prancing lightweight that Angel was combined with what I learned about cigar imagery from an essay by one Sigmund Freud, I switched to cigarettes. The irony of the whole bit, though, is that the word that we Brits use for cigarettes is the word you Americans use for poofters." Dawn looks up at me for a moment, shock flashing across her face.  
  
"You mean that-every time you call Angel or someone else a poof-"  
  
I grin evilly. "Yep."  
  
She smacks me on the arm. "Spike! That's so mean! How could you use the way a person wants to live their life as an insult! What about Willow and Tara?!"  
  
I shrug. "What can I say, Nibblet? I'm Evil."  
  
"No you're not. You're a good guy now. You help us fight-"  
  
"I do what I do 'cause I promised sis I'd protect you. Plus, I like killin' stuff."  
  
"Sure, Spike. Whatever." She leans up against me again, all forgiven. "So, uh, can I like, have a cigarette?" I look down at her, eyebrow raised. "I just want to try one, see what the big deal is." I pull out my pack and offer her one.  
  
"Here. Go to town." She takes it shakily, like she's gonna get in trouble or something. She places it between her lips as I flick open my trusty Zippo and light for her. "Now, what you do is take a drag. You inhale once to get the smoke into your mouth, then inhale again to take it into your lungs. Not too much though," I say as she begins hacking, "or you'll start to choke."  
  
She throws the cigarette away, still coughing. "Gross! How can you smoke those things?!"  
  
"Takes practice, Bit. Plus, as I am undead, I do not choke." She settles back down, her experimentation with tobacco over. I figure she'll never pick another smoke up again as long as she lives. I got this theory, see, that if you tell someone, especially a kid, that they can't do something or they aren't allowed to do try something, they'll go out of their way to do it. But, if you let them do it, like smoking, they'll find they may not like it so much. It's like how Dawn drinks coffee. Her mum, Buffy and the Scooby's all told her she was too young for coffee, but that didn't stop her. Now she drinks the foul stuff by the gallon. If they'd have let her take a drink with no arguments, she'd never have gotten hooked on the stuff. Makes sense to me.  
  
So, we sit together on the porch in silence for hours, staring off into the night sky. Finally, Dawn speaks again.  
  
"Which one do you think she is?" I turn to look down at her. Tears are silently falling down her face.  
  
"What's that, pet?"  
  
"The stars. Which one is Buffy? I mean, that's Heaven up there, right? A- and Buffy went to Heaven, didn't she?" She's starting to sob. I'd better say something, to help her feel better. And hopefully make myself feel better, too.  
  
"'Course she's in Heaven, Dawn. She was a hero, an' hero's get a free pass into Heaven. And 'fore you ask, as the resident expert on all things Good And Evil, I know these sorts o' things. Now, as to which star she is, that's too easy. She is the biggest brightest star in all the heavens." I take her face in my hands, clearing away tears with my thumbs. I look into her eyes. "Because she has to be." She throws her arms around me and cries into my chest. I stroke her hair and back and gradually the crying ceases. She pulls back from me slightly, not letting go of me.  
  
"Thanks, Spike. I feel better."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that, Nibblet. I feel better too." She lets go of me and sits back down next to me. We sit a few moments longer when I slip my hand into one of my duster's pockets, fishin' out my flask. I uncap it and take a deep swig, letting the bourbon burn my throat. Uh oh, she's staring at the flask.  
  
"Is that blood in that flask?"  
  
"No, it's liquid courage." On her slightly puzzled look, I explain, "Bourbon. Alcohol is called liquid courage 'cause it lets you forget your fears and inhibitions. Lets you forget your pain too, sometimes."  
  
"Can I try some?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I put Nibblet in bed shortly after her first and here's hoping last encounter with alcohol. She didn't much like bourbon either. Not too much later, the witches and the bot come prancing in like they won the World Cup.  
  
"Test run went great, Spike! Soon, no one'll know that Buffy's gone!", says Red a little too cheerfully for my taste.  
  
"'Cept for us, right?", I reply. Her face instantly falls. Good.  
  
"Yeah, except for us." She takes Glinda's hand and retreats upstairs, no doubt to share a snog and a few tears. Which leaves me with the thing.  
  
"Oh, Spike! Willow says I'm getting so much better at being like the other Buffy!"  
  
"Yeah, that's real grand. Cheers for us." I don't look at the thing. It makes me sick to my gut to even think I wanted a sex bot.  
  
"Willow is trying very hard to fix my programming. She is very smart. And recently gay!"  
  
"Yeah, that's great and all, but I really must be going." I make my way through the door, the bot following me. I turn to it and say, "You stay here. With Red and Glinda."  
  
"But Spike", the thing whines, "Don't you want to ravage me?"  
  
"NO! Stop saying those things! I'll tear you apart, you infernal machine!" I stomp away before I follow through on my threat. The bot isn't following. Good. I get to my crypt just before sunrise and hit my bed. I'm asleep almost as soon as I hit it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Oh, goody, here I am saving Buffy again. Been a variation of two themes ever since these dreams started. Either I beat Doc on the scaffold, or he's out of the picture (Whelp killed him two nights ago), and I kill Ben. They're starting to get repetitive, and my attention span is fading rapidly. Oh, yeah, it's an 'I Kill Doc' dream. These are usually quite good, since Buffy always falls into my arms and everyone thinks I'm the greatest thing since pre sliced bread. Let's see, oh that's good, I dodged the knife this time. Yep, that's about right, tossin' him over the ledge (it's been in every one of these dreams), then I untie Dawn and get her down. Buffy's beaten Glory, and Ben's lying there, bleeding. Giles heads over to finish the job. I let him, covering his absence with a bunch of useless dribble that gets all the Scooby's talking. Oh, wait, Ben's dead and Giles is back. I can shut up now. Yes, yes, we won and we should celebrate and all that rot. It's still dark, so I can walk to my car without the running, and Dawn and Buffy follow me over. We head back to her place, where I hole up in the cellar until nightfall. I'm the Big Hero. Blah, blah, blah. This is really starting to bug me.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Day 31  
  
I wonder if those Powers That Be types that Angel works for are behind this. Bet they cooked this whole little scheme up, 'Let's torture the vamp some more, show him how he could've done his job right like any self respecting hero person'. I'm still waitin' for the dream where Angel shows up and saves the day with his bleedin' Nancy Boy hair gel and the Angelmobile. Then I'll know for sure that it's the PTB, 'cause hey, everyone knows how much cooler and heroic that poof is than me. He wouldn't let Buffy down, oh no. He's on a mission of redemption. Well, news flash, wankers. Soul boy didn't show up. He was in La La Land doing whatever it is he does with his nights, and missed the invitation. He didn't even know she died. So, sod off, PTB! At least I did my best! And at least Buffy earned her reward for saving the world. She's no doubt happy, with her mum, watchin' us and all that. Good for her. She shouldn't have to deal with any more pain after jumping through that portal. Dying like that, in a mystical hole in reality-  
  
Wait one. She didn't die a normal death. She was killed in a mystical hole in reality. Would she still go to Heaven? I mean, if her soul left her body before the portal closed, she could've ended up anywhere. I've got to get some answers.  
  
The sun isn't near setting yet, so I slip through the sewers to get to the Magic Box. Watcher's got to have books on this sort of business. Hell, he's got books on everything else that goes on in this sodding town. Stands to figure that he's got something on where you go when you ...die. So, I slip in through the basement, have myself a look around. Ooh, burba weed. Makes blood spicy. Have to nick some for later. Okay, time to get down to business. Won't be able to go through the books up front until they're all gone for the night, but there are a few texts down here I can go through. Let's see what we've got here: The Codex. No, the prophecies involving the Slayer's death in here have already occurred. Nothing else here seems to catch my eye. Must have all the good stuff upstairs in the restricted section-oh, wait a minute, the stuff on Glory and the Key. That'll have some answers! Now, let's see where they've stashed it all...  
  
"Spike? Is that you?" Damn. Caught red handed. By Red, of all people. Heh. Caught red handed by Red. That's funny. Uh oh, she's got that look on her face. Guessing that she wants an answer. Best to oblige. Don't want to be the first vampire horny toad.  
  
"Yeah, Red, its me. I'm just, uhm, stealing stuff from the storeroom here. You know, Evil and all." I'm doing my best to look convincing, but I don't think she's buying it.  
  
"Right, except I don't buy you stealing books, well, except for when you had one of your flunkies steal the du Lac manuscript...okay I get you stealing books. Why?"  
  
"I really don't want to talk about it."  
  
"I find it funny that you think you have a choice", she says, her lips barely even moving. No wait, her lips didn't move at all. Bloody Hell, she's talking in my head again.  
  
"Get the Bloody Hell out of my skull, Red. You won't like what you find in there." She ignores me, goes digging around anyway. Damn telepaths, don't know when to quit. "So how are you able to read my thoughts anyway?" I ask, "Thought vampire minds were to telepaths that our bodies are to mirrors."  
  
"This is witchcraft, Spike. It's a whole new set of rules than you're used to dealing with", she thinks at me. She starts rooting around some more. It's getting annoying. She's been doin' this a lot lately, just using magic when there's a nice, normal way to do things. Time to teach her a lesson. I focus my thoughts as tight as I can on the worst, most vile things I've ever seen or done. Then I actively think about them, reliving each and every experience. It doesn't take but a second before Red breaks contact and lurches over to the nearest trash can, retching her guts out.  
  
"Evening kiddies, this course of instruction is 'Why We Shouldn't Dig Around Spike's Brain'. Lesson the first: You aren't ready to see the things I've seen. Do we need a second lesson?" She shakes her head weakly as she spits into the trash can a few more times. Finally she stands back up, on shaky legs.  
  
"Okay, no more digging in Spike brain. Not going there again. Yeesh, Spike. Vile much?"  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm Evil. With a capital 'E'. Kinda goes with the territory. Now, since you're here, I might as well spill as to why I'm down here. I had a thought last night, when I was watching Nibblet. Where did Buffy go?"  
  
"Spike, I don't understand what you mean. She's...gone. You know that."  
  
"Yeah, I know she's gone, but where? She jumped into a portal that mystically tore down the walls of all dimensions. Buffy was...well, you know..."  
  
"You mean, that since she was...dead...before the portal closed..."  
  
"Did her soul make it to Heaven? I told Dawn she was the brightest star in Heaven. Now, no matter how metaphorical that is, it's still something that she needs to hold onto. I don't want to have lied to her. I need to know. Is she happy? Is she at peace where she is? I need to know, Red. I need to know that...that MY failure isn't costing her in the...wherever." I'm pacing at this point, smoking furiously. Red's staring at me like I've grown a second, good head. Then she starts to cry.  
  
"Oh, God! Sp-Spike, me and Tara have thought about that, too. We don't know where she is, or even a way to locate her in whatever dimension her soul may be in!" She's sobbing real good and hard now. She can barely breathe, but she's trying to finish what she's saying. "She died a mystical death! She could be anywhere! Her soul, it could be in a Hell Dimension! Oh, God! What are we gonna do?!" She's looking at me like I'm the boss or something. I'm as clueless as she is. And I'm hurting even more right now than when I woke up this afternoon. I just shrugged off the last dream I had, and now it turns out that my failure is costing her.  
  
"There's nothing we can do, luv, but carry on. We carry on for Buffy's sake. And we carry on for Dawn. It's all we can do." With that, I leave post haste. As I slide into the sewers, I hear Red say something to herself. I don't really get what she means, but I file it away, for future reference.  
  
She says, "It's not all we can do...".  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I patrol solo tonight. Red's called an emergency Scooby meeting, of which I am conveniently not invited to. Makes no difference to me, though. All they'll do is bicker about how to best keep things going without Buffy, when all they need to do is what I do: Just get out there and fight. I want this night to go fast, though. I need to get to sleep. I've got dreams to dream, and I'll never take them for granted again. 


	5. Day Forty-Nine

Day 49  
  
I'm patrolling on my own more and more these days. The Scooby's keep having their little meetings and apparently can't be bothered with the work. Strangely enough though, I'm actually patrolling tonight with Watcher. He's been fairly quiet these forty nine days since Buffy...left us. We do our rounds in silence, not having much luck when I finally break the silence. "Rupert", I say, "maybe we should try the Bronze, or some of the dives near the docks. There's always some matter of beastie waiting about."  
  
"Very, well. We'll go down to the Bronze, then swing by the docks. But then we are finished. I have several bottles of scotch waiting for me, and I shant disappoint them." Well now, Watcher's gone crawling to the bottle eh? I know that song pretty well. Done it myself on more than one occasion.  
  
"Scotch, huh? Single malt?"  
  
"Of course. I am civilized, you know."  
  
"Uh huh. Civilized, eh? What's so civilized about drowning your sorrows in booze? 'Cause I'd think you'd be tougher than that." Oh, that sets him off, next thing I know, he's grabbed hold of me, jerking me off the street and slamming me up against an alley wall. He's in my face now, seething with rage. Didn't take much to get him going. This should be fun, if a little painful.  
  
"You shut your gob, you pathetic thing! Don't you dare tell me how to deal with my pain! What do you know of pain?! What do you know of suffering?! What do you-" I cut him off at that, breaking his grip on me with quick strikes to his forearms. Giles stumbles back in pain as the chip in my head sings me a painful little ditty. I shake off the sparks behind my eyes as my own personal electric kool-aid acid test wears off. Giles is glaring at me still, but now he keeps his distance. Smart man, remembering that I am still more than capable of violence. I'm not a punching bag.  
  
"Now that we've gotten past the obligatory strutting and penis comparisons, shall we talk? Or would you like to see how much I can hurt you before this sodding chip turns my brains into porridge?" Oh, he's blanching now. Let's work with that. "Remember this, Rupert. I tolerate the lot of you for Buffy's sake and for Dawn's. Nothing else! So don't think you can treat me like a dog, you get me! I don't need you near as much as you need me!"  
  
"Y-yes, Spike. O-of c-c-course you're right. I apologize. I-I-I've just been on edge, as of late. It's just...difficult, you understand? Intellectually, I know that a Watcher always outlasts their Slayer, but..."  
  
"You're still never ready for it. You ask yourself 'How did I cock this up? What horrible mistake did I make that called for her to give her life so that I may live?'. That sound 'bout right, Watcher?"  
  
"Yes, Spike. Th-that's it exactly. How can you..."  
  
"I ask those same questions every day I'm forced to walk this world knowin' that she's gone." I walk away from Giles, headed for the Bronze. He jogs up behind me.  
  
"Spike, where are you going?"  
  
"To finish up this round of patrollin', then get some shut eye. Comin'?" He falls in step by my side. And we walk, in silence...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Patrol actually got a little eventful after me and Watcher's little talk. A small crew of vamps were tryin' to take advantage of Buffy's 'vacation' and tried to round up a seven course meal at the Bronze. Tried. Of the five of them, I staked three of the wankers, while Watcher went 'Ripper' on the other two. He's not bad in a fight, if he's riled up good and proper. I walked with him back to his flat, where he handed me a bottle of single malt. 'To help us both remember, rather than forget', he said. Whatever. All I know is that I've got me a nice bottle of booze, and I didn't even have to steal it. I drank from it as I strolled through Sunnyhell, not in a big rush to get anywhere. 'Course, this means that before I know it, I'm standing under that ever faithful tree in the front lawn of 1630 Revello Drive. The lights are all out, so I know they're all asleep in there. I climb up the tree right quick and check on Nibblet. She's resting peacefully, for a change. That's good, she doesn't normally get a good night's rest anymore. I don't want to disturb her, so I take my leave and head for the crypt.  
  
Renovation's coming along nicely. Soon enough, it'll be quite posh. Not that I'm ever going to have anyone over to share it with, but hey? Why not live in style? The bed looks positively inviting as I collapse upon it, the scotch in my system workin' its will. I try to get comfortable before sleep overtakes me, but I'm so drunk right now, it doesn't really matter...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Okay, I'm at Doc's with Harris. My hands are slightly burnt, but I've retrieved the box Doc was so desperate to destroy. Harris has just stabbed the wanker through the chest, coating himself in blue goo. Must be Doc's blood. Ugh, it smells horrible, like rancid meat. He's getting up to follow me out, asking what's in the box. I tell him, "Somethin' worth dyin' for". He gets that, but just leaves the git as is. Uh-uh, not bloody likely. "Harris, you lack brain, cut that pillock's heart out before he gets back up."  
  
"Huh? No! Gross! You do it!"  
  
"Sissy." I take the sword and stab Doc through the chest again. His eyes bulge open, like he wasn't expectin' this. Damn idiot, haven't you been paying attention to my other dreams? I do this every other time. So I use the sword like a giant scalpel and spread his rib cage open. I reach in and yank out the wanker's heart. Would you look at that? It's still beating. That's an easy fix. I drop it on the ground and smash it under my boot. Then I pick up what's left and, oh c'mon Doc, you know the rest don't you, throw it into the fire. As has happened before, he disintegrates.  
  
Fast forward. Glory and the bot are going at it, and the rest of us, minus Red and Harris, rush the bad guy gaggle. There's a fair amount of scabbies in the mix, which gives me stuff I can kill. Oh yeah, love that bit. The crowd has broken up into a series of small brawls. The scabbies are going after Watcher and Anya now, leaving me with the nut jobs, who are painfully human. This is why we got driven back in the first place, 'cause I couldn't fend off these poor gits in the first place, what with the chip and all. Oh, and now Buffy is getting it on with the Hell Skank. Bot's all busted up. We're still getting pushed back and that's bad news for us white hats. Just 'cause Doc's a non issue doesn't mean that one of the scabbies won't make a run for it and do the job himself. I have to get through this-  
  
Got an idea. I'm remembering what Dru said to me, last I saw her. She talked about not believin' in science. Maybe she was on to something there. Her insane rambling always used to make sense to me, so let me think a bit...maybe it's just a matter of, oh what's that word again, compartmentalizing the pain. Kinda like those Tibetan monks who walk on burning coals without scorchin' their feet. They know that the pain is there, but they don't allow it to affect them. It's all about the willpower. And hey, if there's anything I got, it's willpower. How else could I survive the way I do? So, I fall back a bit, to get away from the freaks and I try to focus on something besides the pain from the chip. Nasty deeds of violence from times past? No, reminds me of what I lost when I got this stinking thing jammed up in my brain. No good there. Reciting Shakespeare in my head? No, I'm too scatterbrained. Wouldn't be able to keep it up. There's only one thing I know that'll keep me focused. My promise. I'd die to protect Dawn, so what's with a few thousand volts, right? Yeah, that'll do. I got a mission to complete, loath as I am to coin Captain Cardboard phrases, so I'd best get to it. Can't keep a lady waitin', right? Bad form, that.  
  
So I charge forward again, keepin' Sweet Bit's face in my mind, her big blue eyes all teary and red. The first nut job gets in my way and, WHAM! To the moon he goes, courtesy of Ol' Spike's right fist. The chip's going off. I can feel it, but the pain's not affecting me. It's like I know it's there, but it's in another room, like an alarm clock. I'm clobberin' crazies left and right, clearin' a path to the stairwell. Must have started raining or something, 'cause I hear little pitter patters hitting my coat. Not very many though, must only be a drizzle.  
  
I'm flying up the stairs now, ignoring the little raindrops and that annoying fly that's buzzing around me just out of sight. I'm taking steps two at a time, moving faster than even Buffy could on a good day. I reach the scaffold and sure enough, there's some old scabbie up there, saying something about Doc bein' late. Can't really make it out with all this buzzing. Wish that damned bug would sod off. I'm up on the thing in an instant, tossing him off the side like I was taking out the garbage and reach Dawn. She's got this look of horror on her face. Don't get why, considering I just saved her. Oh, well. Best get her down.  
  
I loosen her bonds and help her down the stairs. Buffy's just finished off Glory, who's reverted back to Ben. Giles will be headed over soon, no doubt, to show the boy what the man is really capable of. The scabbies are all either dead or scattered, as are the nut jobs. The Scoobies all circle around me and Dawn, similar looks of fear and horror on their faces. The Slayer too. Maybe it's 'cause I was able to hurt all those crazies. I should say something, tell them about how I just really focused and forgot all about the chip-  
  
Oh, God! The pain! I collapse in a heap, vomiting blood, my blood, as my body shakes into convulsions! I bring a hand up to my nose, then my eyes and ears. Every orifice on my head is oozing blood. That's what the drops were, my blood dripping out of my body as the chip did its grisly work. The distant buzzing, I realize now that it was the chip, shocking my brain. It never turned off. It's going off even now, louder and more painful than ever. Then I figure it out. Fail safe. Push it too hard and the chip locks into the on position. It's never gonna turn off. I'm frying before their eyes.  
  
I'm going to die.  
  
The shakes are starting to get worse as my brain begins to liquefy. At best, I'd be a vegetable, unable to move or speak or do anything for myself. Never. That's not the way for a guy like me. As best as I can, I roll over to face Buffy, who's kneeling beside me, holding my hand. She's crying those bittersweet tears. You know, like the ones you shed when you've won, but at too high a cost? Well, asking me, I don't think the cost was all that high, just one soulless thing. "Buffy?", I barely manage to whisper.  
  
"Y-yes, Spike?"  
  
"I t-t-told you once, th-th-there's d-d-d-death, a-a-a-and Gl'ry, an' s'd 'll else, right?" God, I can barely talk. It just hurts too much.  
  
"I remember."  
  
"N'd you t' do s'mthin f'r me, luv."  
  
"Anything. Just name it."  
  
"I wanna see th' sun one l'st time, but don't let it burn me. Make...it...quick."  
  
"NO! We can fix you, Spike! We can make you better! There's got to be another way, right?!" She looks at Giles, who no doubt just got finished killing old Benjy, and he shakes his head. He knows there's nothing to do but put the dog down. Anything else would be...cruel.  
  
"There's nothing we can do for him, Buffy, except release him from his pain", Giles says quietly.  
  
"I don't accept that!", she screams, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"Ya got to, luv", I croak out, "B'lieve me, it's b'tter th's way." She looks into my bloody eyes and nods slowly. She hefts me up into her arms and brings me out into a clear area, facing east. Despite everything going on inside me, I can smell the sunrise. It's just below the horizon. I can see, with sudden clarity, the orange glow on the skyline as that big ball of light just slides up into the sky. It's so beautiful, just as I remember it was. So golden and intoxicating, just like Buffy. Oh, that a creature as low as I, can behold such radiant beauty.  
  
My skin starts to smoke as I look up at the face of my salvation, a twenty year old girl. A girl who would never be free, so long as she lived this life. A girl who, just by being herself, had maybe redeemed this demon, so that he may soar with angels again. I strangle out a few more words, guttural noises really. "It's time, Slayer." She nods her head again, and without saying a word or even looking down, she swings her arm around my chest, embedding a stake in my heart. My eyesight fades as I utter my final words, "I love you"...Then everything is black.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
My eyes snap open as I bolt up into a seated position. My head's pounding and I begin to scream as tears race down my cheeks. Could I have really been that brave? Could I have been that heroic, to sacrifice myself so easily? Would that have even worked? And, if it did, is there a fail safe in the chip that would do just what I dreamed it would do? Don't care about the last question, it's really a matter of semantics, but the other questions truly frighten me. Could I sacrifice myself for Dawn? Would I really lay down my existence, so that she could live? Could I do it for Buffy? My mind wants to say yes, without a shadow of doubt, but the truth is, I never want it to come down to it.  
  
I am afraid of what the answers might truly be... 


End file.
